


the love you don't feel

by lightningmcqveer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Pro Volleyball Player Bokuto Koutarou, Unrequited Love, Writer Kuroo Tetsurou, it is my stolen from god right to write nonbinary kuroo, xe/xem pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningmcqveer/pseuds/lightningmcqveer
Summary: it's a perfect day to be in love, kuroo muses, taking a break from their manuscript.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	the love you don't feel

you're in love with a boy, the prettiest one you've ever seen. his hair is dark and cascades in waves over his eyes. you tell him not to strain them too much, but he looks cute in glasses too. he smells like your old comforter and his lingering touch feels like home. he is made of worn sweaters and old books and love.

now take away all the softness and fill it with bitterness. his fingertips leave your skin burning. you can't look at him but you can't look away either. he is overwhelming and vast and he holds the universe in his thin frame and you feel like you're going to drown in his presence.

you're in love with a boy but he's not in love with you.

_dont go breaking my heart_

it's a perfect day to be in love, kuroo muses, taking a break from their manuscript.

it's chilly, monsoon season setting in, raindrops gathering on their window pane.

kuroo looks out at the bustling street, unbothered by water pelting on them.

could they ever be free like them?

_buzz._

free. in all literary meaning of that word, they are free. but they don't—

_buzz._

feel like it. everywhere they go, suffocation follows. like there's a huge shadow hanging over their head, burning their skull, dripping in, taking all over them. can a person even feel free?

_buzz._

oh for fuck's sake.

kuroo gets up, scowl etched on their face, dragging their feet heavily to keiji's slumbering form.

they don't need to see who's calling. months of this— a half relationship where keiji ends up at their door, miserable but composed, and kuroo lets him in each time— has left them painfully aware of exactly who calls keiji.

they should have stopped after the first time. hell, there shouldn't even have been a first time.

_buzz._

gaze set on the sleeping man in their bed for a moment too long, they shake keiji awake, whispering his name in a light breath near his ear. 

akaashi keiji doesn't seem like it but he is a deep sleeper. or maybe he only ever sleeps when he's with kuroo, if the makeup concealed bags under his eyes are something to go by.

it takes him a minute to wake up, small smile disappearing as his bleary eyes focus on black hair and feline features.

kuroo doesn't let their disappointment show, knowing keiji was expecting— hoping against all hope for— someone else.

they clear their throat to make the man focus, and perhaps, just perhaps, to remind themself that they can't tear up there.

_buzz._

keiji leaps for the phone, fixing his hair as if someone could see him, "bokuto-san?"

bokuto koutarou is one of their closest friends. kuroo has known xem for almost a decade, loves xem dearly, would drop pretty much anything for xem.

that doesn't mean kuroo hates xem any less in times like this, when keiji smiles so openly, when keiji's face lights up despite how dead-to-the-world he had been earlier, when keiji is just so unnaturally _him_ with bokuto.

but there's something different today— bokuto's excited chatter is loud enough to slip into kuroo's ears, reminding them of the conversation they'd had with the volleyball player hours ago.

it's morbid to see keiji falter, expression shuttered.

a part of them– ugly, jealous, most human part– feels overjoyed for one second before they push it down.

kuroo isn't cruel enough to wish this on their worst enemy, let alone akaashi keiji.

keiji trips over his last words, congratulating bokuto hastily, emptily.

_don't go breaking_

"so xe went and fell in love with someone?"

"yes."

they doesn't like seeing keiji like this.

( like myself, they think. i don't like seeing him like me. )

"and it isn't you?"

it's meant to sting. kuroo would rather see keiji angry than broken.

it works, keiji being played like a fiddle by their taunts. kuroo meets his glare in the mirror with their steely eyes.

he hisses, "clearly. i wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case, would i, _tetsurou?_ "

they snort.

this is what it's always been like with them, kuroo snaps and keiji snaps back, both knowing the other can take it. neither shy from below the belt hits, incredibly clear from keiji's use of their name.

keiji only ever uses it when he's high in the moment, too out of it to say his proper kuroo-san, too caught up to moan bokuto's name like he always does.

but it's intentional now, keiji's focus pinning them to their spot, even if his haunted eyes seem to be staring somewhere else, like he's not even in kuroo's apartment anymore.

"keiji." 

the younger man flinches at the reprimanding tone, all fight leaving him and turns away the same way he's done every time kuroo tries to bring it up.

but kuroo won't stop now, not today.

"at this point, you're just causing yourself more pain. fucking look at you, keiji. too hung up over your high school crush. you had your chance and you blew it—"

"i never had a chance to begin with!"

keiji's shaking now, chest moving up and down, fists clenched. "i never had a chance with xem."

"then why are you still in love with xem, seven years later?" it's meant to come out harshly, with more force behind it, but kuroo has always been so, so weak for keiji, voice quivering in midst of their words.

( oh, kuroo tetsurou. you hypocrite. )

"i don't know," he buries his head in his hand, fingers tightening in his hair, "i don't know how to stop. i don't know how to not be in love with xem."

then keiji looks at them, right at them like he knows, and asks, "does that make sense?"

and kuroo, taken off guard by the abrupt question, mouth filled with ash, tells him, "not really."

keiji smiles. it's not as much a smile as it is a mockery of it, lips quirking up in hollow amusement. "for a hopeless romantic, you don't really believe in love, do you, tetsu?"

(no but i believe in _you._ i don't know how else to describe this, they think. what a brilliant writer. ) 

"not really." kuroo repeats instead, copying keiji's grimace.

the atmosphere between them is heavy with secrets. keiji seems to feel it then, getting up from the bed, snatching his clothes.

"i have work to finish." he explains, "some editing before tomorrow's deadline."

kuroo knows it's a lie. keiji never leaves work undone, especially not for the night before.

that doesn't stop them from wrapping their arms around keiji's thin waist from behind, inhaling near his neck, pretending not to notice his body freezing.

"it's raining out." 

they know it's futile to try but for keiji, they'd do it a million times more.

"i'll be fine." as expected.

they want more, so much more. they want keiji's limbs around theirs too, touch genuine and real and feeling, want lazy mornings and stealing the man's endless coffee supply with a cheeky grin, want to make keiji happy.

( the way bokuto never will )

they want and want and want and keep wanting because even when they have keiji so close, know them better, far more intimately than anyone else, akaashi keiji is in love with bokuto koutarou who does not, will not ever, love him back and kuroo tetsurou doesn't even fit in the equation.

it's a messed up situation honestly. kuroo entertains the idea of a story. it seems too cliche, too mainstream, too promising of the happily ever after of two people. 

if it was up to them, they'd make all of them suffer til the end and forevermore.

kuroo loosens their grip, allowing keiji to walk to the door, far from their reach.

"at least take my jacket." they're desperate enough now.

keiji seems like he's going to refuse but sighs, accepting his fate, knowing kuroo's relentless nature.

"isn't this your favourite?" keiji asks, fiddling his fingers, looking small. 

kuroo shrugs. "it suits you." 

keiji stares at them with intent and another emotion kuroo can't place. he hesitates for a second, hand on the knob and opens his mouth to say something before thinking better of it. he's halfway out when kuroo says it for him.

"we shouldn't do this anymore."

for someone who was about to say the same words barely a moment ago, keiji looks almost betrayed with kuroo.

it doesn't matter really. they both know these are empty words, spoken only for the sake of it.

keiji doesn't say anything, just nods. there can be two liars here.

but even though they know keiji will come back, kuroo still feels something akin to longing watching him leave, an itch in their throat to beg him to stay against all odds, to stay with them, even if he doesn't love kuroo back.

( it's okay if we're not the protagonists of this story, they want to say. i would be happy just to be on the same page with you. so turn over and let us rewrite fate, we don't need to be star crossed lovers. ) 

outside, it rains harder than before. akaashi keiji's lone, drenched figure walks away, illuminated by street lights, without sparing a glance back. 

kuroo pulls the curtains, returns to their empty screen and starts typing.

_don't go._

**Author's Note:**

> please forgive me for this monstrosity, i'm a sad yearning gay who's never been in love but wants it to hurt anyway


End file.
